For Want of a Better Word
by ink.quills
Summary: He refused to think about all the horrors he would have to face, thanks to the sudden proposal. He and Drake were going to get married and deal with everything coming his way. Sequel to For Want of a Nail. Slash, Drave.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice and I am not making any form of profit off this fic; except for reviews._

**Writer Ramblings:** _I am pleased to present the sequel for For Want of a Nail! I hope everyone enjoys the prologue, and I sure hope it's written better than the first fic. I can't wait to see new and old reviewers, if there are any! XD_

* * *

><p>PROLOGUE<p>

"_**A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie." ~Tenneva Jordan**_

_Gosh. Who in their right mind charges two whole dollars for a stick of butter? It isn't even that big,_ thought Dave as he turned the object of his irritation over in his hands. It was butter, for crying out loud, not a bottle of ketchup.

"Excuse me, sir?" a female voice interrupted his thoughts.

Dave turned to see a young brunette behind him. A light shade of pink spread across his cheeks. Suddenly, he realized it was stupid to be annoyed over a simple stick of butter. After all, what had the dairy product ever done to him? The pricing was clearly the fault of the company.

"Sorry—I just wanted to get some tuna," she said in an apologetic tone. "You were sort of blocking the shelves…"

"Oh; sorry about that," Dave said, hastily stepping aside. "Totally my fault."

She nodded, a sign of acknowledgment. The girl's attention was quickly absorbed by the cans of tuna—cans of tuna, which were in fact just as highly priced as the butter.

Once again, the girl cut into his thoughts. "This is fifty cents more than it was last time," she noted. "They must be doing this for the holidays, although I can't imagine why anyone would buy tuna for Christmas dinner."

_She's talking to me, right?_ Dave asked himself mentally. "Yeah," he agreed lamely.

Her eyes bore into his. "I've seen you before somewhere, haven't I?"

"You don't look familiar to me," Dave said.

"Mmm...physics?"

"Huh?"

"NYU," the girl said, happy with her sudden recollection. "Yep, you're the physics major."

"How do you know I major in physics?" Dave questioned.

She smiled. "I've got a friend named Becky. She pointed you out to me once. If my memory serves correctly, you two used to date."

Dave resisted the urge to frown. He didn't like where this was going. "That's me," he said a second too late. He attempted to walk away from the girl without seeming rude. "If you don't mind…"

"Bye," she said, shrugging. Was she embarrassed?

"Yeah." Dave left the aisle and headed towards the checkout lane. He completed the usual supermarket routine and impatiently waited for the teenage cashier to ring up his purchases. He hated shopping at this store due to its lack of speedy cashiers; of course, if Dave wanted nutrients, he would have to go here. Drake offered to give him some cash, but Dave refused to hear it. It wasn't coming from his income, and besides, he needed to get a job of his own. It was one of the many things they needed to decide upon before the wedding.

Argh. The _wedding._

The cashier needed his attention then, and so Dave was momentarily distracted from thoughts of the upcoming event. He didn't want to think about what would be waiting for him when he arrived at the penthouse.

.

.

.

As soon as Dave slipped through the door, he got to work. He set the groceries on the countertop, then made his way to the bathroom. He was careful not to rush; it was unnecessary, after all. Plus, with every hour he wasted, he avoided the dreaded e-mail from his mother.

It was sort of ironic how he was in a rush to get away from the girl at the supermarket, yet he wanted to move as slowly as possible in the penthouse. It made sense, in a way. Being a friend of Becky's, she might have heard about the wedding and brought it up. But there was no way Becky would reveal such private, intimate details to her friends—still, he wasn't taking that risk. Dave didn't want to be reminded of the things he'd have to face, thank you very much.

That's why he was a sloth in the bathroom: he stripped himself of his clothes, folded them neatly, and set them on the lavender rug. The hot water came on almost immediately; he took a shower and made a last-minute decision to wash his hair. When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back to the bedroom he shared with Drake. Dave changed into something comfortable, disposed of his old attire in the closet, and entered the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Thanks to Balthazar's insistence he learn how to take care of himself and Veronica's teaching skills, Dave now knew how to make a variety of breakfasts and one meal. He was almost finished with dinner when Drake opened the door.

Dave abandoned his position at the oven and greeted the blonde at the entrance. "Hi," he said sheepishly. "Dinner's not ready yet. How was work?"

"All right," Drake said, wrinkling his nose. "One of the assistants got injured, so that puts a damper on things. Although it was definitely her fault."

"How so?"

"She was distracted by some good-looking bloke in the seats."

"Better looking than me?"

Drake feigned horror. "My good man. Surely you must be joking?" He shut the door and removed his designer coat. Drake kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear (while sending shivers down his spine), "There is no one more physically attractive than you."

Dave returned the kiss, thinking that was doubtful, but he appreciated the compliment. "Thank you." He was about to tell Drake the meal required his attention, but before he could, Drake's lips seized his. The taller man's arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him to his chest. Drake's tongue apparently wanted to explore the inside of Dave's mouth, and usually Dave was just as willing, except—

"Hey," Drake exclaimed when Dave abruptly pulled away.

"The food," he reminded the blonde.

"Food schmood."

Dave set the table and served the dinner. He sat down, but couldn't get to enjoying the pasta.

"Are you all right? I don't think you've ever refused a kiss from me."

"Not really," he admitted. Dave couldn't hide anything from Drake, even if he wanted to. He had no inclination to keep his stress a secret from him; they were engaged, after all. Hiding things from your fiancé wasn't exactly what one would do in a committed relationship.

Drake reached across the table and stroked Dave's cheek; it was small enough for that. "What's the matter?"

"Our engagement is sort of driving me crazy," Dave sighed. He saw the look on Drake's face and swiftly corrected his mistake. "No, no, it's not like that. Not the engagement itself, but… It's that there are so many things to do, and practically no one knows about _this._" He pointed to the shiny ring on his finger. "My mom is totally clueless and I haven't said a word to anybody. How am I supposed to break the news?"

"We aren't getting married right away," Drake reminded him gently.

"We have to," Dave disagreed. "Or else the proposal is void. If I tell my mom right now that I've gotten engaged to someone she hasn't even met, she'll freak and tell me to wait. To top things off, she has no idea I'm marrying a _guy._ We'll have to wait until she gets to know you better. Or maybe she'll want for me to marry you right away, since that is ethically right thing to do when getting serious. See how it screws everything up?"

"The timing wasn't the best," Drake said. "But it is what it is. I want to settle down with you. You're almost graduating. She's your mother, but doesn't control every aspect of your life. We'll find a way to break the news to her."

Dave groaned. "We don't have much time to find the perfect wording, Drake. I threw a mental hissy fit over the price of butter, and it was because I was thinking about my mom. She e-mailed me last week and I haven't replied." He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Mom's been giving me space because she thinks something's wrong. But knowing her, I should expect an e-mail today demanding details."

Drake was silent for a moment. Then, he said, "Over butter, you said?"

Dave didn't appreciate his attempts at humor.

The blonde laughed. "Sorry, sorry. You're right." After a brief pause, he asked, "Is your mother the only thing that's bothering you?"

"No, but she's on the top of the list. I've got friends…and my master. Veronica _might_ be happy for us," Dave said sourly. "I'm not sure."

Drake suggested he check his mail after dinner. Dave tried to postpone this, but to no avail. He finished his meal rather quickly, just like Drake. Dave reached for the dishes, but Drake lightly slapped his hand away. "E-mail," he said firmly. Dave sighed and went to the computer in their room.

There was an e-mail from his mother, all right. He moaned softly. He unwillingly clicked on the message. It read:

Dave,

How are things? I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you okay, or is that me being a worrywart again? E-mail me back as soon as you get this. Happy almost-holidays, Dave! Is it my place or yours this time?

Love, Mom

He bit on his bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wasn't sure how to go about formulating a response. Should he inform Drake? He decided it was the best thing to do. Drake came back to their bedroom and scanned the message. He only said, "She sounds normal so far, Dave."

"She _is_ normal, silly. What should I say?"

Drake drummed his fingers on the wooden desk's surface, thinking of some kind of a reply. Finally, he came up with, "Why don't you invite her down here for the holidays? Show her around, then take her out for dinner. I'll introduce myself."

"Okay…"

"But make sure to say you want to tell her something. Prepare her, y'know?"

"It sounds fine," admitted Dave. He didn't see a lot wrong with this plan. He gave in and typed up his e-mail. "How does this sound to you, Drake?"

"Good. Now…send."

With that, he pressed a key and sent the message to his mother.

.

.

.

"What are you reading?"

Dave looked up from his textbook. "Just reviewing stuff for school. I'm not graduating that soon, you know."

"Actually, you are. Happy to be free?"

"Of course. More time for us," he said, chuckling a bit.

"And for other things," Drake said, flopping himself next to him. "Put that away."

"Pushy. A special occasion?"

"Just trying to celebrate our engagement."

Dave set aside the textbook. "We did that last week. On the night you gave me that ring?"

"Still a recent engagement, Dave."

Dave didn't remember what happened after the two begun kissing. He refused to think about all the horrors he would have to face, thanks to the sudden proposal. He and Drake were going to get married and deal with everything coming his way. Dave was simply putting all his energy into the intercourse, as he wanted to do.

_Tongue,_ his mind shrieked.

I know, Dave thought as Drake flipped him with inhuman speed. Sexual perks to being a sorcerer? He had no idea.

"Oh, no worries," Drake said, patting his bottom. Dave gasped in surprise. "We can put that theory to test on our honeymoon."

Had he spoken out loud? Whatever. He was in an expensive bed with the wittiest, sharp-tongued, handsome person around. Not being aware of speaking wasn't a huge problem in his mind.

And then Drake was on top of him, and he forgot about everything else in an instant.


	2. One

1.

"_**Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere." ~Glenn Turner**_

The week passed by quickly for Dave. Thanks to his mother's acceptance of his invitation, his stress levels had increased. He had no desire to go out with his friends, but couldn't find the patience—or interest, for that matter—to study. Dave still continued to train with Balthazar, and although he was curious about the topics, it was difficult to focus on projecting the magic. Dave gave him a thin explanation about his lack of attention; he edited most of the information because neither Balthazar nor Veronica had a clue he had gotten engaged. Their advice mimicked Drake's a little.

Drake had been fairly gracious about the whole thing, he admitted to himself. He knew how much Drake liked his privacy, and that his mom was coming on a short notice. They prepared one of the many guest rooms in the penthouse; this one had its walls paneled in dark wood and a cabin-esque feel to it, which was surprising. Dave supposed only the guestrooms looked normal. The rest of the penthouse bothered him a little because he knew it would take his mom a while to get used to all its gaudiness. Dave's things were in the bedroom and living room, so he hoped his average objects would tone down the area.

Instead of spending the weekend going on a date, Dave insisted they learn how to handle his mom. Dave made flash cards of things he thought she might say or ask. Drake was forced to stay inside and formulate answers or responses. Dave kicked it up a notch by pretending to be her, giving his fiancé a time limit of five minutes to reply to whatever he came up with. Drake, naturally, thought all his precautions were insane.

"This is stupid," the blonde commented when they took a break from rehearsing. "Very stupid. Can't we just be us and let the chips fall where they may?"

"I'm not saying don't be you," Dave said. "I'm preparing us; I let you make up your own answers, didn't I?"

"Only after you finished correcting them," Drake shot back, "or, for that matter, tweaking the details."

Dave had frowned at him.

When the anticipated day arrived, Dave was glad he thought ahead. Drake dressed in a casual, plain fashion rather than the crazy clothes he was used to. Any traces of makeup was gone too. The long-sleeved shirt covered up the tattoos that would've given his mother a heart attack had she seen it otherwise. He wasn't going to force Drake to change his hairstyle, so the spikes remained. In the hopes of pleasing her, Dave wore a frayed Christmas sweater she'd made him years ago. Drake snickered—he was promptly elbowed in the ribs.

"The things I do for love," Drake mumbled as he watched Dave slip off his wedding ring and put it in a small box. Dave caught the scowl on the blonde's face and felt a wave of guilt. He probably disliked seeing the ring off his finger, but it was the appropriate course of action to take while his mother was here. He tried to apologize, but Drake cut him off midsentence.

"Where's yours?" he asked quietly.

"I already put it away," Drake responded. "Get your coat." Dave snatched his coat off the couch and followed him out the penthouse. The drive to the airport was actually long, but to Dave, it seemed very short. They located her near a row of potted plants. Dave noticed she hadn't changed much.

His mother was a thin woman with fading blonde hair. They didn't look like one another, so nobody knew she was his mother until he said so. Dave stole a glance at Drake. His eyebrows shot up.

"She has your eyes," he whispered as they approached her.

"Huh."

"David!" his mom squealed, a large smile on her face. She threw her arms around him and he patted her back.

"Hi, Mom," he said in his sheepish tone. "How was your flight?"

"Exhausting," she said. She released him from her hold and took a step back. She was appraising his appearance, Dave was sure. His mom looked somewhat pleased with what she saw. She probably didn't miss his anxious eyes.

She turned to look at Drake, who grinned at her. A curious expression settled on his mother's face. "Well, hello there. A friend, I presume?"

"A very good friend." Drake reached out to shake her hand.

_Jeez, Drake, why couldn't you just say hello?_ Dave thought as he watched the two shake hands. "This is Drake, Mom. Drake, this is my mother, Theresa Patterson."

"Dave never stopped talking about you," Drake informed her. "You're something of a celebrity, Ms. Patterson."

"Heavens knows why—all I did was raise 'im." The two laughed, as if they were close friends. Dave beamed at the response. So far, so good.

"Let's continue this reunion somewhere more private," Theresa said. Dave led her to Drake's car. She sat in the backseat with him while Drake took to driving.

"Mom…," Dave began.

"Yes, honey?"

"I…" He almost started the speech he had planned, but couldn't find the courage to speak. He decided to take her to the living room and explain the whole situation to her. "I, er, want to know if you'd like to go to a café with me after you finish unpacking."

"I'd love to. But I'm dying to know: where is your place? I know you and Bennet have parted ways."

"Yeah," said Dave lamely. "You know college guys." He caught a glimpse of Drake's frustrated expression in the rearview mirror. He knew he wasn't putting much effort into his act, but it was hard to lie around his mom. There was only fudging the truth or avoiding the details. Why had Dave thought he could've skipped this? It wasn't going to work, and Drake knew it.

"Mom, I'm sharing the new place with Drake. I didn't say a lot about it because it's kind of…strange."

"How strange?" she asked eagerly.

Dave knew that when she wasn't being her protective, maternal self, his mother could be quite the party animal. Well, animal was overstating things. But she did like to have fun. Dave suddenly felt a tad guilty—Theresa hadn't commented about herself through their e-mails, but he knew the fun factor in her life must've improved when he left for college.

"It's got stuff from all over the world."

"How interesting! Well, I can't wait to see it. We've got so much to catch up on, Dave," Theresa gushed.

"Mm hmm," Dave agreed, not matching up to his mom's enthusiasm.

.

.

.

"Welcome to the penthouse," Dave announced awkwardly as he helped Theresa out of the car. Drake was already getting out her luggage, suspiciously out of view. The blonde probably liked the idea of missing out on Theresa's reaction; she was going to freak and ask questions, no doubt.

Her jaw didn't drop, although her facial expression clearly told Dave she was impressed and stunned by the sight. "Have you been robbing banks?"

"Nope. Just sharing the place with Drake here."

"Has _he_ been robbing banks?"

"Mom!"

"Be realistic, Ms. Patterson," Drake said. "As if I'd be able to snag a place on a few bank robberies. Illegal dealings is where the money's at."

"So silly of me to not have known," Theresa muttered.

"Sooo… Let's show you around!" Dave exclaimed. He took two bags while Drake dealt with the rest. Dave guided her to the front desk to introduce her to Rachel, the receptionist. He simply told the young woman that this was the mother he'd been speaking about; he'd spoken to Rachel about letting her in and out of the place.

"What a lovely lobby," Theresa said. The lobby had been tastefully covered in Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Year decorations.

"Yep." Dave didn't care much about the decorations. He just wanted to get the revelation over with. He hoped his mother would be understanding about the whole thing. _She should be,_ he thought. _I know her._ Granted, he wasn't aware of how much time it would take for her to accept the fact her son was gay. Well, gay for Drake Stone, anyways.

They used the elevator and walked the way to their door. "Mom," Dave said. "This is our place. I'm going to explain how I acquired this lovely area, 'kay? Just don't fire off questions so fast, please."

"Sure, sure. I love stories."

"You'll love this one…," Drake mumbled under his breath. Dave shot him a glare.

When the door was opened, Dave tensed. His mother actually let her jaw drop when she saw the hall. He all but shoved her into the living room.

"Mom, please have a seat." He winced when she caught sight of the expensive, odd sofas. "Um, want anything?"

She said something about tea.

"Please come with me," Dave hissed. He grabbed Drake's wrist and pulled him into the kitchen.

"Do we have tea?" Drake asked.

"It's on the counter, with the sugar." Dave opened the pantry and gathered the box of cherry turnovers. He took the teacups and used his shoulders to signal Drake to hurry up.

He set the desserts and cups on the coffee table. The teapot and sugar joined them a few seconds later. "Mom, help yourself…"

"Thank you," Theresa said. She took a turnover and bit into it gingerly. "So, Daves. How did you come upon this luxurious penthouse? You didn't go quite into detail in our e-mails."

"Well! A friend introduced me to Drake and we became friends." He flinched, knowing this story sounded like something else. "I wanted to move out of the apartment I shared with Bennet, and he had this girlfriend. You know." He shrugged.

"I own the penthouse and I offered Dave a room. I don't have anyone else here; good for studying and…stuff."

"That's too kind of you," Theresa said. "Is he paying for a room?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. I also clean and sometimes I cook, so that reduces the payment." Dave laughed nervously. _What a bunch of baloney! I live here for _free.

"Let me take the bags into the room," Drake suddenly said.

"I'll help!" Dave volunteered. "We'll be back soon."

Getting the luggage to the guest room was no problem. Dave sat on the bed and rubbed his eyes. "This is hard," he said curtly.

"Tell me about it. You're mum's like a hawk. I don't think she buys into the crap we're saying about the living quarters," Drake snorted. "So much for your flash cards."

Dave moaned.

Drake sat down next to him. "Worrywart. Don't be too anxious. I think your mum will be fine."

"But!"

Drake kissed his cheek and gripped Dave's hands. He was pulling him close, Dave realized a minute too late. He knew it wasn't the right time, and promptly told Drake this.

"She's having her tea," he reminded the younger man gruffly. "Let's give her a couple of seconds to relax."

"Drake, my mom's waiting for us…"

Drake ignored him. He released Dave's hands and slid his own under the boy's thighs. Dave yelped. Drake plopped Dave right onto his lap. He placed a hand on his back to keep him from moving. The other hand ran itself through Dave's curls. Drake kissed him softly on the mouth. Dave wanted to kiss him right back, but he had to think about his sexual needs later. His mother was in the living room, for crying out loud!

Drake stopped playing with his hair and used that hand to grip Dave's back. He pulled him to his chest. Drake was a bit stronger than Dave, so it was difficult to get away. It was now less of kissing and more of tug-of-war.

The reasonable part of him demanded to be free whereas the thrilled part of him wanted to stay on his lap.

"Dave?"

That was not Drake's voice.


	3. Two

2.

"_**Love begins with an image; lust with a sensation." ~ Mason Cooley**_

"That can absolutely not happen again, Drake," Dave said firmly. "We can't keep sneaking around my mother."

"I agree," the blond replied. "Which is why we are going to tell her about us when we come home."

Dave blanched. What was Drake thinking? He truly loved the man with all his heart, but he loved his mother too. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings in any way. His mother had always seemed so kind and gentle, but not everyone was willing to accept their children's romantic relationships. Especially if it was the first time that child was with a man. She was his only family, the one who had brought him into this world. Revealing this engagement to her, telling her he had been lying. He shoved the thought out of his mind and attempted to reason with his fiancé.

"Drake, please. I don't want to scare her."

One of Drake's eyes twitched. "I'm sick of hearing that, David. There is nothing to be afraid of. We are two adults who want to marry one another. I'm not a drug addict or a serial killer. Why should we hide? Do you think we can keep this up forever? We can't even kiss without her seeing."

Dave winced at the memory. He had thrown himself away from Drake as soon as she came in. Drake had explained away their absence as them looking for a picture Dave wanted to show her. Something about him and Balthazar and Veronica, who were currently masquerading as Dave's employers.

"No, but—"

"No buts." Drake lifted a finger and stroked Drake's cheek. "This cannot last forever. If she truly is a mother, she'll accept us and give us her blessing."

Dave bit down on his lip. "I don't know."

"I do. I'm telling her, with or without your permission," he said. Drake saw Dave's expression and realized that his tone had been a tad harsh. "Don't be afraid, love. She's your mother."

He had been beat. Dave tried to release the tension in his shoulders and said, "Fine."

A smile graced Drake's lips. "Thank you, sweet. I think tonight, at dinner, will be a perfect time."

"I still have no idea what we're going to prepare for dinner," Dave muttered. "I've never even been in this grocery store before."

Drake had dragged him to this place, explaining that they needed to prepare something delicious for his mother. He refused to let the woman eat takeout, which was perfectly reasonable in Dave's mind. However, he would have preferred going to Whole Foods to grab ingredients for pasta and salad. Dave had no idea what they could find in Duiker Market. It was a market that catered to foreign tastes, although one step above the Chinese food you'd get at the restaurants.

"Leave it to me. I think my mother-in-law should enjoy a traditional English meal," Drake said with a relish. "I'm thinking shepherd's pie with a nice, white wine. And for dessert, empire biscuits."

"My mother doesn't drink wine," Dave told him. "Only on special occasions."

"An engagement is the exact time for wine. And with my cooking, I'm sure she'll be in the mood to hear anything."

.

.

.

The shepherd's pie had come out beautifully. Drake set the pan down on the counter and took a moment to inhale his creation. It smelled great. _Dave's mum will love this_, Drake thought as he fetched a knife from the drawer. _Perfect, hearty squares of meat and vegetables._ It had been damned exhausting, but worth it. It would not be a dinner for three. The two men had gone ahead and invited Balthazar and Veronica. Considering that Drake would be officially announcing the engagement, it seemed right to include them in the dinner.

"Dave! Is the wine ready?"

"It's been ready for half an hour," Dave said. He returned to the kitchen to retrieve some eating utensils. "We should be worrying about the guests. It's drizzling outside."

"Theresa will be back soon. Balthazar and Veronica can use magic, so I doubt they are bothered by the rain," Drake noted. "Everything set up, dove?"

"The tableware is set. You know, Drake, I think you're more excited about this dinner than I am."

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm surrounded by people I love. Two Merlinians who probably only showed up for the food and a woman who has no idea that her son is about to be a married man." Drake finished slicing up the pie. "I'm not worried about anything. I don't know if I can say the same for you. Not tense?"

"A little," Dave admitted. "I just want us to get along."

The door rang. "Theresa," Drake said. "I'll open the door. Better to show her how hospitable her son-in-law is. You know, I don't envy them much, but Balthazar and Veronica never had to deal with breaking the marriage news to the parents. I think it's because their parents are dead."

"Drake!"

Drake made a beeline for the door and opened it. He was expecting Theresa, but had no clue that the Merlinians were present.

"Hello, Drake," Veronica said, her voice as warm as ever. "May we come in?"  
>"Of course," he said. "Let me get your coats."<p>

"I'm bringing out the food," Dave called out from the kitchen. "Make yourselves at home."

Balthazar, Veronica, and Theresa surrendered their wet coats to Drake. He hung them up on the rack and led them to the dining room. The table had been carefully arranged. Dave had done his best to set the silverware perfectly. Drake's table had always been extravagant, even if it was just for eating on. The chairs had been imported from Rome and came with the best cushions. Usually he and Dave would eat next to one another at the table, but this time, seating was everything. There were two large chairs at the opposite ends of the table. Three smaller, but just as elegant, chairs were placed on either side. Drake assumed the head chair at the right end. Balthazar, Veronica, and Theresa sat together at one side.

Dave came out with the shepherd's pie. He set it down in the middle of the table. The guests eyed the dish eagerly. Drake smiled to himself. It was a good thing he decided to cook an English meal, otherwise they wouldn't have known true fine dining. Dave put pieces of the pie onto the plates. He uncorked the wine and poured a generous share for everyone, save for Theresa.

"Bon appetite, everyone," Dave said, settling down in his seat. "Drake worked very hard on the dish."

"I can tell," Theresa commented. "This smells heavenly, Drake."

"I hope it tastes even better," Drake said. He picked up his own fork, but then set it down. "So, how was your day?"

"Mine? Oh, nothing too impressive. New York is such a big city. I feel like there's so much to see, but all I've done is hit the shops," Theresa said.

"You should come see Arcana Cabana," Veronica said. "Balthazar and I had it remodeled last year. After the fire, it just seemed necessary."

Drake smirked. He knew all about the remodeling. After all, Horvath had been the one to cause all the damage in the first place. Dave caught him smiling and raised a brow.

"I would love to see the shop," Theresa said.

For a few minutes, everyone enjoyed their meal in silence. Drake made sure nothing was around his mouth, then gestured to the bottle of wine. "Could I pour anyone more wine?" he asked.

"Oh, no, thank you, Drake, our glasses are filled to the brim," Veronica said, at the same time Balthazar answered, "I could go for some more wine, sure."

"Not for me. I think this will be my first and last glass of the day. I'm not a fan of alcohol," Theresa said.

"Well, erm, I think this is a great time for wine," Drake said. "Theresa, we prepared this dinner for a special reason. We invited you all so Dave and I could tell you some wonderful news."

"Oh, boy," Balthazar murmured underneath his breath. Veronica gave Drake an encouraging smile.

"What news? Is this about college?"

"No, Theresa," Drake said. "This about your son and me. We're not only friends, you see. Your son… I mean, Dave and I have been in a relationship for quite a while and just last month I proposed to him. He graciously accepted. I love him. We invited you to New York to tell you in person. So… what do you think?"

Theresa blinked.

"Mom?" Dave said. "Are you okay?"

"Congratulations, David, Drake," Veronica said. "I'm very happy for the two of you. Although I must say, I think Balthazar and I saw this coming."

"It's nice to finally find your other half," Balthazar said. "Congratulations."

"Mom?" Dave tried again.

"Thank you, both. We weren't sure how to break the news of our engagement to everyone. We decided to tell those closest to us before moving on to friends," Drake said.

"Mom, are you all right?" Dave demanded in a louder voice.

Theresa blinked. "Married? Like, legally?"

"Yes, Mom, legally," Dave answered.

"Are you all right with this, Theresa?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "Why wouldn't I be all right? It isn't my place to tell my adult son what he can't and can do." She suddenly grabbed the glass of wine and downed the whole thing in one gulp. "How long did you two say you were dating?"

"Um, almost a year," Dave said. "Mom, are you really fine?"  
>"What? Of course, David. How old are you again, Drake?"<p>

"Huh? Er, I'm in my mid-thirties. I'm thirty-five."

Theresa coughed at that. "And I am twenty-two, Mom," Dave pointed out. "I can take care of myself. Besides, you and Dad had an eight-year age difference."

"But who are you going to live with after you graduate?" she asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"With his husband, I presume," Drake said.

"Okay. This is kind of a lot to process." Theresa tried to take another sip of wine, but realized it was empty. She poured some more for herself. "And I mean _a lot._"

.

.

.

"What I want to know is who's going to pay for this wedding?" Theresa asked, knocking back her fourth glass of wine.

"Mom, you should really be careful," scowled Dave.

"Honey, I'm your mother, I know my limits," she said, seemingly exasperated. "This is too much, Dave. First I come for a visit and I meet your friend, only to find out that he's your fiancé."

"The plan is simple. We'll be doing what couples have been doing for centuries," Drake said, interrupting the exchange between mother and son. "Dave will graduate from NYU and take a little break. Being a physics major is incredibly stressful and God knows the job market isn't that great, so we've decided that it would be best if he stayed at home. I have enough money for the both of us. My performances across the world have funded basically every living expense."

"What about graduate school? Your masters degree?" Theresa asked.

"Dave is an intelligent man," Drake replied before Dave could say anything. "He can go back anytime. There's no need to rush. We want to enjoy wedded bliss. Besides, I'm sure Dave will prove to be the excellent little househusband."

"Can Dave and I have a few moments alone?" Theresa asked Drake.

"Say no more." He got up from the chair, grabbing the wine bottle on his way out.

When he was gone, Theresa released a breath and let her shoulders sag. "Dave, there were better ways of telling me this. Why didn't you tell me straight-out?"

"I thought you would disapprove."

"Disapprove? I'm not too thrilled about you marrying someone that old, but he doesn't seem cruel or vicious or nasty. I know my son doesn't just rush into relationships. You're a smart boy, Dave. You're mature enough to know what you want and how to handle things in your own life. You don't need to worry about Mommy ruining things." She smiled at him. She looked exhausted. "And you love him, don't you?"

"Absolutely," he said.

"It has nothing to do with money or his celebrity status, correct? Because I know my son would never do such a thing."

"Of course not, Mom," Dave sighed. "Although I can't say it's not a relief to know all my student debt will be paid off thanks to Drake."

"So you won't be worried about funds or needing food or not having a job?" Theresa asked, rubbing her eyes.

"No, no, no. Drake told you, I want to just enjoy myself before going to grad school."

"He isn't forcing you to stay here with you, is he? Drake seems like a nice enough man, but if he thinks he can use his money and name to keep you away from physics…"

"Not at all, Mom. We decided this together," Dave said. He felt blush rising in his cheeks. "I love him. I want to marry him."

Theresa stood up slowly. "Then that's it. You love him, he loves you, a marriage is in the works. Just be careful and don't divorce each other in the next five months." She walked towards her son and embraced him.

"Thank you so much, Mom," Dave mumbled into her hair. "You'll see, everything will be great. You can be involved in the planning and after the honeymoon, we can all maybe go on a vacation together."

"Trust me, honey," Theresa said, pulling away from the hug. "Once you're married, you aren't interested in anyone but your spouse."

.

.

.

After his mother left for her bedroom, Dave thought he could sit down and soak up the entire conversation. His heart was still beating quickly. But as soon as his mother was gone, there was Drake. The blond wrapped his arms around Dave's torso before grabbing him altogether and throwing him over his shoulder. Dave let himself be carried into their bedroom. He was unceremoniously thrown into the silk sheets and lace pillows.

"A little rough there, don't you think?"

"See? I knew nothing would go wrong. All we had to do was _tell_ her."

Dave groaned. "Yes. You were right."

"What was she saying about me keeping you away from physics? Because I'm not preventing you from going to school or doing homework." Drake joined Dave on the bed and pulled him close to his torso. "Nope. You just didn't want to break her heart and tell her that is secretly a dream come true."

"Oh, yeah," Dave replied sarcastically. "I was just waiting for the day to marry a man who would let me cook his dinner, iron his glittery clothes, and clean his penthouse."

"And be permanently available for all the hot, dirty sex I have in mind," Drake murmured into his ear, tugging at the buttons of Dave's shirt. "If you like our plain, old vanilla lovemaking, you're going to be stunned at what I have in store for you on the honeymoon."

Dave could feel his erection straining against his black jeans. "Plan on making me wear your sparkly coat during foreplay?"

"No, sweetheart, I was thinking more along the lines of ball gags and paddles."

Why was it suddenly three hundred degrees hotter in here? Dave shuddered at the thought of him lying over Drake's lap, a gag in his mouth and a paddle at his ass.

"Well, if you plan on keeping me sore on our honeymoon, perhaps I shouldn't marry you," Dave said. Drake grinned wolfishly at him, undid all his buttons, and threw Dave's shirt on the floor.

"That's exactly what I intend to do, love," the blond said, undoing the button on Dave's jeans. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't? I've been practicing my paddling. Developing my good arm, all that."

"Mm, I wouldn't want all that effort to go to waste—"

Drake pressed his lips to Dave's, pushing his tongue inside his mouth. He grabbed Dave's wrists and pulled them up above his hand without pausing the assault. Dave felt every part of his mouth being explored by Dave's tongue.

"Do whatever you want with me," Dave moaned when Drake pulled back.

"I'll ravish you twelve different ways after the wedding, "Drake chuckled. "But for now, Mr. Stone, I think I'll stick to our tradition of taking you on your back, ankles over my shoulders."

.

.

.

"I love you," Dave murmured sleepily. He was lying against Drake's back. They were sweaty and slick, but it didn't matter.

"I love you too, sweet."

"I can't wait for the wedding…"

"Mmm."

"But, Drake?"

"Yes?" The blond closed his eyes.

"Don't be upset, I love you, I do, but… I don't want to be a Stone. I want to be Dave Stutler even after I marry."

Drake's eyes flew open.

"Don't be mad," Dave pleaded him, trying to stay awake.

Drake had convinced Dave to marry him. He had persuaded him to reveal the truth of their relationship to his mother. And Drake would be damned if his fiancé wasn't David Stone after the papers were signed.

Dave saw the expression on his face, even though sleep threatened to take him. The morning after would not be pretty.


	4. Note To Readers

Hello, readers,

I know it has been years since I've updated (yes, actual years), so I am not sure whether people still have in interest or not. If you do, please let me know, so I can update and try to get back on track. Thank you for reading.


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